Scene: Great Hall – Suspension and Revelation
The silence following Hadrian's words had barely settled before the castle itself responded.
A low hum vibrated through the floor — ancient, deep, and resonant. The torches flickered, the floating candles dimmed, and the very air seemed to lean forward in anticipation.
Hadrian turned once more to face Dumbledore.
His eyes, glowing faintly now with the magic of the castle recognizing his authority, held no anger — only finality.
Hadrian:
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you are hereby suspended from your duties as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
The words hit like a thunderclap.
Gasps filled the hall.
Even the Ravenclaw hourglass clattered faintly as several students accidentally knocked into their bench in shock.
Hadrian (calmly):
"You are to remain within the grounds of the castle under house arrest until the Council of Founders reviews your actions and determines the final judgment. The wards have been updated accordingly."
He raised his hand and flicked his fingers — a subtle gesture — and the air shimmered momentarily around Dumbledore like a faint magical boundary had fallen into place.
Dumbledore's expression faltered.
For the first time, the twinkle in his eyes flickered and died, replaced by a cold calculation.
Dumbledore:
"You… cannot do this. I have served this school longer than—"
Hadrian (interrupting):
"Than anyone alive? Perhaps. But tenure does not grant immunity. Especially not from the castle itself."
The Sorting Hat chuckled darkly from its stool.
Sorting Hat:
"He speaks for the Founders, Albus. And the wards answer to him now, not you."
Around the staff table, Professor McGonagall stared at Hadrian as if seeing him for the first time. Her lips were pursed, eyes slightly wide. She said nothing — but did not protest.
Professor Flitwick whispered something to Sprout, who nodded grimly. Hooch, arms crossed, gave Dumbledore a cold look that hadn't been there earlier.
Snape, on the other hand, remained emotionless — arms folded, lips pressed thin, watching Hadrian like a predator unsure of its new rival.
The students were no longer silent.
Whispers surged into open murmurs.
"Is he really suspended?""Did he say house arrest?""Dumbledore… lied?""What's happening to Hogwarts?!"
The buzz turned into a wave of noise as realization dawned on more and more students. Some of the older years were already putting together connections — first year, Chamber of Secrets, the Triwizard Tournament...
Harry sat down hard on the Gryffindor bench, his face pale.
His mind was a storm — memories, warnings, subtle manipulation from the past four years were suddenly thrown into a new, painful light. His faith in Dumbledore — his trust — felt shattered.
He didn't even notice Hermione until she sat down beside him. She didn't say a word. She just slowly slid closer, her hand brushing his as she stared blankly ahead, her own mind reeling.
It was a quiet, instinctive gesture — one of comfort, not thought. She barely realized she had moved.
But Ron noticed.
He stood stiffly a few steps away, arms crossed. His face slowly darkened. His eyes darted from Hermione's hand near Harry's, to Harry's pale expression, to the tension in the air.
He didn't say a word either.
But anger simmered behind his silence.
At the front, Dumbledore drew himself up — shoulders squaring, voice colder than usual.
Dumbledore:
"This… charade will not last. I have done what was necessary to protect this school from the darkness outside and within."
Hadrian didn't flinch.
Hadrian:
"No. You've done what was necessary to control it. There's a difference."
He turned back to the room.
"The age of secrets ends here. Hogwarts is no longer a pawn."
The castle rumbled softly again — as if agreeing.
The air in the Great Hall felt charged, electric. The tension was so thick, even the youngest first-years had stopped whispering. All eyes were on Hadrian and the man who had ruled this castle for decades.
Hadrian's voice cut through the silence.
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you are hereby suspended from your duties as Headmaster of Hogwarts."
Gasps broke out. Even the enchanted ceiling seemed to flicker as the weight of the words settled into stone.
Hadrian didn't flinch.
"By the will of the Castle, and the judgment of those bound to its legacy... you are placed under immediate house arrest."
A low, resonant hum echoed through the hall — not from the students, not from any spell, but from the very walls and foundations of the castle itself.
From the shadows near the staff table, a voice emerged — cold, gravelly, and unmistakably regal.
The Bloody Baron floated forward, ghostly blade at his hip.
"The Castle has spoken. The spirits of Hogwarts agree — you are no longer trusted with its care. You may not leave the grounds until a full reckoning has been delivered."
Dumbledore's expression, once so composed, wavered.
The twinkle in his eye extinguished, his jaw tightened as he looked around at the teachers, the students, and finally at the ghosts who now circled above the hall like silent judges.
Dumbledore:
"You presume much. I have protected this school for decades—"
Sorting Hat (interrupting sharply):
"You protected your position, Albus. Not the school. Not the children. The Castle has watched your actions. So have I."
There was a soft rumble, and a faint shimmer surrounded Dumbledore — the castle's wards subtly shifting, containing him.
Professor McGonagall's lips trembled. Her hands clutched the edge of the staff table as if unsure whether to sit or stand.
Flitwick blinked rapidly, muttering under his breath. Pomona Sprout looked pale.
Madam Hooch's eyes burned with confusion and betrayal.
Only Snape remained unreadable — but there was a flicker in his gaze. Something wary. Calculating.
From the student tables, the whispers turned to murmurs, the murmurs to open chatter.
"He's suspended?""The castle did this?""Was it all true… what they said?""Then what about the Chamber? Or the Troll? Or Cedric?"
Harry sat down suddenly, like the strength had left his knees. His eyes were wide, staring at Dumbledore like he didn't recognize him anymore.
The words from Headmaster Phineas Black's portrait echoed in his mind.
"He plays the long game, boy. And you're just one more piece."
Hermione's hand found his without her realizing it. She just slid closer, her presence a steadying anchor in a storm of revelation.
Ron noticed. His fists clenched silently under the table. His eyes narrowed, not at Dumbledore, but at the space between Harry and Hermione.
Dumbledore straightened. The room was slipping from his grasp, and he knew it.
Dumbledore (desperate calm):
"All I have ever done was for the greater good. The world outside this castle is dark, and you—"
Sorting Hat (snapping):
"The greater good you speak of has always been your own. This school was not meant to serve your ambitions."
Hadrian, voice cold and clear, like steel against stone:
"Hogwarts was meant to be a sanctuary of learning — not a playground for your political games."
The last word echoed, as if the Castle itself stamped the truth behind it.
And Hogwarts rumbled again. Not in warning — but in agreement.